I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire.

3.1.414331412The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,

3.1.514341413And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl, for now these hot

14351414days, is the mad blood stirring.

Thou art like one of these fellows, that when he enters 14371416the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table 14381417and says, "God send me no need of thee" and by the operation 14391418of the second cup, draws him on the drawer, when indeed there 14401419is no need.

Am I like such a fellow?

Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as 14431422any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon 14441423moody to be moved.

And what to?

Nay, an there were two such, we should have none 14471426shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou? Why, thou wilt 14481427quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his 14491428beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking 14501429nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. 14511430What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head 14521431is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy 14531432head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou 14541433hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street because he 14551434hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst 14571435thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet 14581436before Easter, with another for tying his new shoes with old 14591437ribbon? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling?

An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should 14621439buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

The fee-simple? O, simple!

By my head, here comes the Capulets.

By my heel, I care not.

[To Companions] Follow me close, for I will speak to them.

3.1.1714691445[To Mercutio and Benvolio] Gentlemen, good e'en, a word with one of you.

And but one word with one of us? Couple it with 14711447something; make it a word and a blow.

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give 14731449me occasion.

Could you not take some occasion without 14751451giving?

Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.

Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou 14781454make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's 14791455my fiddlestick[Draws sword.]; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, 14801456consort!

We talk here in the public haunt of men.

3.1.2514821458Either withdraw unto some private place,

3.1.2614831459Or reason coldly of your grievances,

3.1.2714841460Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.

Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.

3.1.2914861462I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.

But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery.

3.1.3314901466Marry, go before to field; he'll be your follower,

3.1.3414911467Your worship in that sense may call him "man."

Romeo, the love I bear thee, can afford

3.1.3614931469No better term than this: thou art a villain.

Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee

3.1.3814951471Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

3.1.3914961472To such a greeting: villain am I none.

3.1.4014971473Therefore, farewell, I see thou knowest me not.

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

3.1.4214991475That thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw.

I do protest I never injured thee,

3.1.4415011477But love thee better than thou canst devise

3.1.4515021478Till thou shalt know the reason of my love.

3.1.4615031479And so, good Capulet, which name I tender

3.1.4715041480As dearly as mine own, be satisfied.

O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!

3.1.4915061482Alla stucatho carries it away.

3.1.5015071483Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?

What wouldst thou have with me?

Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives,

3.1.5315101486that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me

3.1.5415111487hereafter dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your

3.1.5515121488sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be

3.1.5615131489about your ears ere it be out.

I am for you.

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Come sir, your passado.

Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weapons.

3.1.6315181494Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!

3.1.6415191495Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath

3.1.6515201496Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.

3.1.6615211497Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!

[Fatally wounded.]I am hurt.

3.1.7015241500A plague a both houses! I am sped.

3.1.7115251501Is he gone and hath nothing?

What, art thou hurt?

Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry 'tis enough,

3.1.7415281504Where is my page?--[To Page] Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

Courage, man, the hurt cannot be much.

No 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church

3.1.7715311507door, but 'tis enough. 'Twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you

3.1.7815321508shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this

3.1.7915331509world. A plague a both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse,

3.1.8015341510a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain

3.1.8115351511that fights by the book of arithmatic! Why the devil came you

3.1.8215361512between us? I was hurt under your arm.

I thought all for the best.

Help me into some house, Benvolio,

3.1.8515401515Or I shall faint. A plague a both your houses!

3.1.8615411516They have made worms' meat of me.

3.1.8715421517I have it, and soundly too. Your houses!

This gentleman, the Prince's near ally,

3.1.9015441520My very friend hath got this mortal hurt

3.1.9115451521In my behalf. My reputation stained

3.1.9215461522With Tybalt's slander--Tybalt that an hour

3.1.9315471523Hath been my cousin. O sweet Juliet,

3.1.9415481524Thy beauty hath made me effeminate

3.1.9515491525And in my temper softened valor's steel.

O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead,

3.1.9815521528That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,

3.1.9915531529Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

This day's black fate on more days doth depend.

3.1.10115551531This but begins the woe others must end.[Enter Tybalt.]

Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

He 'gain? In triumph and Mercutio slain?

3.1.10415591534Away to heaven, respective lenity,

3.1.10515601535And fire and fury be my conduct now.

3.1.10615611536Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again

3.1.10715621537That late thou gavest me, for Mercutio's soul

3.1.10815631538Is but a little way above our heads,

3.1.10915641539Staying for thine to keep him company.

3.1.11015651540Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.

Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

3.1.11215671542Shalt with him hence.

This shall determine that.

Romeo, away, be gone!

3.1.11615711546The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.

3.1.11715721547Stand not amazed; the Prince will doom thee death

3.1.11815731548If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!

O, I am fortune's fool.

Why dost thou stay?

Which way ran he that killed Mercutio?

3.1.12415791554Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

There lies that Tybalt.

Up sir, go with me.

3.1.12715821557I charge thee in the Prince's name, obey.

Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

O noble Prince, I can discover all

3.1.13115871562The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.

3.1.13215881563There lies the man slain by young Romeo,

3.1.13315891564That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

Tybalt, my cousin, O my brother's child!

3.1.13515911566O Prince, O cousin, husband, O, the blood is spilled

3.1.13615921567Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,

3.1.13715931568For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.

3.1.13815941569O cousin, cousin!

Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Tybalt here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay--

3.1.14115971572Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink

3.1.14215981573How nice the quarrel was and urged withal

3.1.14315991574Your high displeasure. All this--uttered

3.1.14416001575With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed--

3.1.14516011576Could not take truce with the unruly spleen

3.1.14616021577Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts

3.1.14716031578With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,

3.1.14816041579Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,

3.1.14916051580And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats

3.1.15016061581Cold death aside, and with the other sends

3.1.15116071582It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity

3.1.15216081583Retorts it; Romeo, he cries aloud,

3.1.15316091584"Hold friends, friends part!" and swifter than his tongue,

3.1.15416101585His agile arm beats down their fatal points,

3.1.15516111586And 'twixt them rushes, underneath whose arm

3.1.15616121587An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

3.1.15716131588Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled,

3.1.15816141589But by and by comes back to Romeo,

3.1.15916151590Who had but newly entertained revenge,

3.1.16016161591And to't they go like lightning, for ere I

3.1.16116171592Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain,

3.1.16216181593And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly;

3.1.16316191594This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

He is a kinsman to the Montague.

3.1.16516211596Affection makes him false; he speaks not true.

3.1.16616221597Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,

3.1.16716231598And all those twenty could but kill one life.

3.1.16816241599I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.

3.1.16916251600Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live.

Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio.

3.1.17116271602Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's friend.

3.1.17316291604His fault concludes but what the law should end:

3.1.17416301605The life of Tybalt.

And for that offense,

3.1.17616321607Immediately we do exile him hence.

3.1.17716331608I have an interest in your hearts' proceeding;

3.1.17816341609My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding.

3.1.17916351610But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine

3.1.18016361611That you shall all repent the loss of mine.

3.1.18116371612It will be deaf to pleading and excuses,

3.1.18216381613Nor tears, nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.

3.1.18316391614Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,

3.1.18416401615Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.

3.1.18516411616Bear hence this body and attend our will,

3.1.18616421617Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.